


John Winchester One-Shots

by robinwritesallthefanfiction



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abortion, Angst, Death, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, One-Shot, Oral Sex, Possessiveness, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert, Romance, Self-Hatred, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:45:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthefanfiction/pseuds/robinwritesallthefanfiction
Summary: A collection of one-shots starring John Winchester, Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s character inSupernatural. Stories are listed in alphabetical order. Explicit stories are marked in the notes.





	1. Board Game Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine family board game night with John, Dean, and Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a gender-neutral reader.

“Okay, Sammy,” John says, ruffling his son’s hair. “What game did you choose?”

“This one!” Sam pulls his selection out of the stack and John’s face goes white. He obviously hadn’t noticed it in the motel’s stash.

You recognize his expression. He’s about to go on a rant about how supernatural objects are dangerous and completely ruin the mood of the evening.

You quickly put your hand on his shoulder. “Let me handle it, John.”

He relaxes a bit and nods. It took a while to get him to trust you, but now you’re just as much family to him as his boys are.

You pick Sam up, putting him in your lap and touching the Ouija board box. “This one has a really interesting history, Sammy. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yeah!” You’ve never known Sam to turn down a lore lecture.

“Well, Sammy, this is called a spirit or talking board. It’s been used as a way to communicate with the other world for a long time. There are mentions of them all the way back to ancient China.”

“Dad says the other world is bad,” Sam tells you solemnly.

You smile. “Dad is right, Sammy. I know they sell this as a game, but it could be dangerous if people don’t know what they’re doing. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. We should play something else, huh?”

“We should. Is that okay?”

“Sure! That means it’s your turn! What game did you pick?”

“My favorite,” you answer. “Candy Land!”

Sam cheers and crawls off of your lap to set the board up.

You run your hand soothingly over John’s back. “Any paranormal objections to Candy Land?” you tease.

John rolls his eyes at you playfully, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “None,” he confirms. “Thank you.”

You clasp his neck briefly so you can sit up and kiss him softly. “You’re welcome. Just think before you fly off the handle, okay?”

John smiles ruefully. “All right, all right. Let’s play. I am definitely going to beat you this time.”

“We’ll see about that!” You wink, leaning back against his solid chest as the boys fight over pieces.

He wraps his arms around you, grinning as he watches, and for just a moment, everything is normal.


	2. Christmas Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine always being at odds with John as a hunter, but loving Dean and Sam and sneaking Christmas presents to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a female reader.

You slowly slip into John’s motel room, making sure to be quiet. Dean and Sam are asleep on the bed, the TV is still on, and there’s an opened pizza box with half a pizza still in it on a nearby table.

Typical Winchesters. You’d snort if you weren’t trying to be stealthy.

The room is devoid of anything that suggests Christmas, even though the holiday is tomorrow.

But you came prepared for that. 

You unfurl a poster of a Christmas tree and tape it to the wall, then stack all of the presents you brought beneath it. Some of them are practical, some of them are fun.

You tuck your final offering behind the rest of the pile and then sneak back out, leaving no other signs that you were there.

When John returns to the motel the next morning, he’s surprised to see Dean and Sam happily tearing into their gifts. He growls briefly under his breath, realizing what you’ve done. He’s tempted to tell the boys to trash everything, but they look so happy that he can’t bring himself to give the order.

“This one’s for you, Dad.” Dean hands John the box that was hidden behind all the others.

“Thanks, Dean,” John mutters. He debates just tossing it, but sighs and tears off the wrapping so that his boys don’t think he’s a spoilsport.

There’s a silver rosary inside with a note folded under it. Against his better judgment, John flips it open.

_Sorry I lost yours. Try and have a good Christmas, okay? I’m sure we’ll run into each other again, no matter how much you don’t want to._

Sam crawls up on the couch next to John and gives him a big hug. “Thanks for our presents, Dad. And the poster is cool.”

John is about to open his mouth and say that he didn’t give them the presents, but then he looks at the pile of wrapping paper on the floor and notices the tags.

They all say “From Dad.”


	3. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You try to distract John while he’s working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a female reader.

You walk into the room where John is working. Intent on distracting him, you lean sultrily against the doorframe, waiting for him to notice you.

When he does, he raises his eyebrows as his gaze wanders over your loose hair and bare torso. He bites his lip and winks at you, and then his eyes fall to your underwear and his face changes. His mouth widens into an amused smile.

“Really?” he asks.

You pout. “It’s the only clean pair I have,” you retort, looking down at the black panties you’re wearing. There’s a shiny, glittery, hot pink Batman symbol on the front, and you wiggle the waistband playfully. “Want to explore my Batcave?”

You lose your composure as he starts to laugh uproariously. He stands and makes his way over to you, slipping his strong arms firmly around you as he kisses you. His kiss is light at first as you both snicker, but then he presses closer, his lips opening against yours as you twine your arms around his neck.

You gasp as he slides his hands to your thighs, gripping them and hiking them up around his waist. He takes the opportunity to plumb the depths of your mouth with his tongue and you moan, squirming against him, tangling your hands in his soft, messy hair. He lifts you away from the door to carry you to the bed, his lips only pulling away from yours when he sets you down.

You scoot forward on the bed while he’s still standing in front of you, your fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt. He shrugs it off as you push up the t-shirt he’s wearing underneath it, leaning forward to kiss the trail of hair on his belly that leads down between his legs. He pants as he throws the t-shirt aside, your warm, wet mouth sucking on him gently.

As you undo his pants and tug him onto the bed so he’s lying on top of you, you smile against his neck, peppering his sensitive skin with kisses that make his breathing loud and ragged. “I’ll have to remember that the Batsignal works on you for next time,” you whisper, capturing his earlobe between your teeth. He grinds down into you in response, groaning.

“You are what works on me, sweetheart,” he corrects you, slipping his hands under your back and kissing his way to your chest. He lingers there for a moment before moving further down.

When he tosses your panties across the room, they drape over the lampshade. As you throw your head back in ecstasy, John’s face buried between your legs, you see them sparkling in the dim light and smile.


	4. The Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You remember one of the worst days of your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a female reader.

Ellen gives you a refill without being asked and makes it a double. You nod in thanks before she moves on.

Today is a day you’d rather forget. Most of your days are, if you’re being honest, but this one is special.

Ten years ago, on this day, you aborted John Winchester’s baby.

He never knew. No one did. He was on a hunt when you realized you were pregnant, and by the time he returned, it was already over. Ellen had noticed that you were always in the Roadhouse at this time every year, drinking your weight in whiskey, but she’d lived around hunters long enough to know not to ask.

It was a practical decision. If you had told John, he would have done right by you. As right as a man like him could do, anyway. But the last thing he needed was another child to worry about.

And you?

You couldn’t stand the possibility of losing another.

You had never told John how much you resented him, despite all the time you’d spent together. You knew the feeling was unfair, but you couldn’t help it.

His wife was dead. You were sorry for that. But his children were alive.

Your child wasn’t.

You had also never told him that finally getting his revenge wouldn’t make anything better. The monster that had killed your daughter was dead, and had been for a long time, but her absence still gnawed at your soul, and that hurt grew worse every single day.

So you became the monster instead. You took the innocent, beautiful life that you and John had made and extinguished it before it even had a chance. Never existing was better than dying, right?

Tell that to the bottom of your glass.

John had always jokingly called hunting the family business.

The truth is, this business is no place for family.


	5. Last Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine arguing with John over giving Dean and Sam a proper Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a gender-neutral reader.

“John, I can handle it,” you say into the phone. “It’s one werewolf. I’ve been killing them since I was eleven.”

“But…”

“John, no.” You shut him down firmly. “This is the first time in years you’ve had the chance to give your sons a real Christmas. The world will survive without you for one day.”

He sighs. “Fine. Just don’t hesitate to call if you need me, okay?”

“I will, John. Give the boys my love.”

After hanging up, you grab your knife and cut open the leg of your jeans, grimacing at the large bite mark around your calf.

It hadn’t been one werewolf. It had been a pack.

They were dead already. There wasn’t anything either of you could do. Every hunter knew that there was no cure.

And John’s family deserved one decent holiday.

You set a timed message that will send to John after Christmas, then load a silver bullet into your gun.

_John, I’m sorry. It was already too late when you called. You know this life always gets us in the end, no matter how good we are. Please don’t blame yourself._

You know he’ll trace your phone and find your body so he can burn it.

That’s the best end a hunter can ask for.


	6. Working Too Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is working too hard on a case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a female reader.

John is sitting at the desk, his head resting on his hand, his eyes downcast, looking at the papers spread out in front of him. He’s twirling his pen in his other hand, which means that he’s stuck. But he’s stubborn, so you know that without a little push, he won’t stop.

You admire his work ethic. It saved your life, after all. He was too late to save your husband, but you knew that it wasn’t his fault. Later, when something else had come for you, he’d been there again. That time, you’d invited him to your bed, and to your surprise, he had asked you to stay with him.

Saying yes had been easy. John knew what to be afraid of and how to fight it, and he had lost his wife, so you both understood the grief that lived beneath your skin. He still wore his wedding ring; you still wore yours. People assumed you were married to each other. You never corrected them, and it usually made them trust you more as well.

You did love him, and you knew he loved you. It was enough. 

“John,” you urge softly, reaching across the desk and running your hand through his messy hair soothingly, “come back to it in the morning.”

He looks sideways at you, his hazel eyes dark and tired. It took a while, but he’s learned not to argue with you. “All right,” he relents, setting the pen down and holding out his arms. You walk around the desk so you can slide into his lap. Your hands caress his face and he sighs heavily, pulling your forehead down to his. He cups your cheeks and gives you a gentle kiss, his thumbs stroking the column of your throat. “I’m glad you’re here,” he confesses. You smile.

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

It’s the way you say “I love you.”


End file.
